Congratulations! If you’re reading this post it means that you not only survived the Mayan Apocalypse but you also survived our culture’s frenetic, helter-skelter, countdown to Christmas.
Once in a while – and there are usually long years between such outbreaks – an inkling toward poetry shifts the structure of my prose. This morning was just such an occasion. So please read the following, short, collection of Christmas thoughts with that in mind.
Peace and promise – DEREK
On the first day of Christmas, that beautiful night of nights, a small child born in an animal stall came to put this poor world to rights.
- God’s provident will held all evil at bay, and a baby was born in a manger of hay.
In sparse fields on a hillside, unrealized prayer in their hearts, a band of close friends witnessed glory descend, and were willing to each play their part.
- The angels from high said to look for the One; said that Love has reached in via the birth of God’s Son.
On every first day of Christmas, on this beautiful night of nights, Love born into history will stay trapped in mystery, ‘til the child we receive becomes new life that frees.
- God’s providence ruled on behalf of this Earth; Love’s initiative proffered via vulnerable birth.
On this the eve of Christmas, the beauty of love is in sight.
Will love born into history remain such a mystery?